


Episode 9: Turncoat

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: Legends of Tomorrow Season 2 Rewrite [9]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Rewrite, Gen, Honey I Shrunk The Scientist, Mick is secretly a history nerd, Oh look it's rational character development, Revolutionary War, Virtual Season/Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12067947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: When the Legends go back in time to save George Washington, they receive a horrible surprise as they’re betrayed by one of their own. As they struggle to save themselves and the Revolution, Jax and Amaya weigh the question of life versus duty, Mick shakes some sense into Washington, and Ray deals with problems both huge and… well, surprisingly small.(Episode 9 of a full 22-episode rewrite of season 2 - the same broad story arc, but rewritten episodes.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What does a writer do with a canon episode that had some great moments but also kind of made me want to beat my head against a wall? You save the good stuff, tweak it to make it even better, and haul all the crap out with a shovel before replacing it with more good stuff. Hopefully, I've managed to pull it off.

**Previously on "Legends of Tomorrow:**

_A flash of lightning. Eobard reappears, with the knife now in his hand. “I told you not to touch that.” Another flash, and he opens the door for the woman on the other side. “Meet Queen Bee. She agreed to do the work for us.”_

_“Hello.” The woman’s greeting is demeanor- her stature is not. She walks into the small room as if she owns it , like she has better things to do with her time. “As long as you keep your end of the deal.”_

_Rip begins to struggle. “No!”_

 

**INTRO SEQUENCE – narrated by Mick**

Seriously, you idiots haven't figured this out by now?

It all started when we blew up the time pigs, the Time Masters. Now, when history’s all screwed up, it's up to us to unscrew it up. Half the time, we screw things up even worse.

So don't call us heroes, we're something else. We're legends.

Who writes this crap anyway?

 

**SCENE: Outdoors, Pennsylvania, December 1776**

A group of soldiers in British uniforms stand at the ready. Rip, also in uniform, is pacing back and forth in front of them. “With our strike tonight, we’ll cut the head off the snake. As soon as General Washington is dead, the rebels will scatter. We’ll sweep them up in a matter of weeks, and finally be able to return to civilized country.”

One soldier leans over to another one. “What an odd accent,” he says, his own voice without what we think of as a “British” accent. “Where does he hail from?”

The other soldier makes a shushing motion as the camera returns to Rip. He steps back, flinging open a chest. Inside is a stack of high-tech automatic weapons. “Now, come choose your party favors.”

As the soldiers all move to get guns, Rip moves over to where Eobard is sitting there watching them. “You know your former teammates are going to try to crash the party as well, right?” he asks.

“That’s the entire point.” Rip smirks. “According to the timeline, I’ve _already_ succeeded in killing Washington. They’ll come rushing back to save him, thinking they’ll come and catch me by surprise. Unfortunately for them, they’ll fall right into my trap.”

“Sounds fun,” Eobard says. “Hopefully for you, the show will be as entertaining as advertised.” He stands. “This is your audition, Hunter. Do well, and we’ll let you in on more of the fun. A random attack of conscience, however....”

“Not a risk, I assure you,” Rip says.

 

**CUT TO: Rip’s office, Waverider**

Sara and Stein are standing in Rip’s office, talking. “Any progress on reading the compass Constantine gave us, Gideon?” Sara asks.

“Not since you asked the question an hour ago, Captain,” Gideon replies.

Sara sighs. “I’m grateful the guy got my soul back, but the least he could have done was leave us an instruction manual.”

Stein looks annoyed. “I’m sure there’s some sort of mathematical formula that would accomplish the same thing far more efficiently,” he says. “Gideon, have you—“

Gideon cuts it off. “Professor, could you go down to the engine room and flip the switch under the clear casing on the southwest panel?”

Stein and Sara both look alert and interested. “Will that speed up your processors somehow?” Stein asks.

“No,” Gideon replies. “It will reset me, allowing me to forget that we had this conversation.”

Stein looks even more annoyed as Sara laughs.

 

**CUT TO: Corridor, Waverider**

Mick is walking down the corridor. Ray comes into the shot, hurrying to catch up to him. "Old buddy? Old pal?"

Mick turns to look back over his shoulder. "Word to the wise? An opening like that is a big sign that the other person ain't gonna like what you have to say."

Ray hesitates, then pushes ahead. "I found rat droppings in my room."

Mick keeps walking. "And?"

"Rats follow crumbs, Mick." Ray argues. "Crumbs you drop any time you eat one of those snacks you're always carrying around."

Mick stops, turning around and giving Ray a death glare. "You telling me I should stop eating my snacks, Haircut?"

"I'm telling you that you need to clean up after yourself!" Ray argues, throwing his hands in the air. "We've been all over time, Mick, and who knows when we picked up the rat. It could have bubonic plague, it could—“

Ray’s complaint gets cut off when Mick grabs his arm and twists it around his back, leaving him doubled over with a look of extreme discomfort on his face.

“I’ve overstepped,” Ray says, sounding strained. “I see that now.”

 

**CUT TO: Kitchen/eating area, Waverider**

Jax and Amaya are cleaning up the kitchen area. Amaya is wiping down a table, and Jax is sweeping the floor. He stops in mid-sweep, sighing. “You’d think that someone in the future would have invented a cooler high-tech way to sweep the floor at some point.”

Amaya looks amused. “Sometimes the old ways are best.” Then her expression turns solemn. “Still, it seems like such a waste of time.”

Jax grins at her. “I tried that argument with my mom for _years_. She never bought it.”

“No, it’s not—“ Amaya stops herself, then tries again. It’s clear she wants Jax to understand what she’s saying. “I understand the need for cleanliness, and sharing the workload. But sometimes it seem as though we’re just _distracting_ ourselves with busywork when there are still spear pieces out there. The universe is at risk!”

Jax leans on his broom, an understanding expression on his face. “You fought with the JSA. You of all people should know the universe is pretty much always at risk. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t get so busy saving the universe you forget to be alive.”

Before Amaya can answer, the ship rocks dramatically as if it’s been hit by something. Both Jax and Amaya are thrown around.

They’re struggling to their feet as Ray appears in the doorway. “Did you guys feel that?” he asks. “It must have been a monster aberration.” Then he looks up. “Gideon? What caused it?”

“The shock wave's point of origin was December 25th, 1776,” Gideon says. “It was caused by the murder of General George Washington.”

 

**SCENE: Main room, Waverider**

The team are gathered together to discuss what happened. Sara is standing, and everyone else is looking at her. “This is clearly a trap.”

“Clearly,” Stein agrees. “But it’s an effective one. We can hardly let the father of our nation be murdered before he fulfills his place in history.”

Mick rolls his eyes. “Why not?” he asks, chewing on a donut. “Washington’s a punk.”

Stein looks appalled. “He led America to Independence and became its first president. Without him, we wouldn’t have a _democracy_.”

“Or the Fourth of July,” Ray adds. “Or ‘Hamilton.’”

Mick still looks unimpressed. “Well, if he’s so cool then why is his picture only on the $1 bill? Franklin’s on the $100, and he wasn’t even ever a _president_.”

Stein looks agitated. “Despite your previous profession, Mr. Rory, the face value of a particular piece of currency is _hardly_ the only determining factor in—“

“Stein,” Sara cuts in, using her “captain” voice. “You know he’s just messing with you, right?”

Stein looks over at Mick, a surprised expression on his face.

Mick smirks. Then he says, “Okay, so maybe the guy leads a sneak attack across the Delaware Christmas night that turns the tide of the war. And maybe he was the only guy popular enough to hold the fledgling country together, to the point that he was the only president ever unanimously elected by the Electoral College.” He takes another bite of donut. “Even tried to make the guy king, but he said no.” He shrugs. “But I thought everyone knew that.”

There’s a beat of silence as everyone stares at him, surprised. Stein, looking rattled, finds his voice first. “Well.” He clears his throat. “I hadn’t realized you were a student of history.”

“Nah.” Mick is still smirking. “Saw it on the back of a cereal box once.”

Ray, amused, barely manages to swallow a chuckle.

Mick looks pleased at the response, then turns to Sara. “You’re right. It’s a trap. Darhk and the evil speedster guy are gonna swoop in the moment we get anywhere near that crime scene.”

Stein looks offended. “I hope you’re not suggesting we don’t go.”

Sara shoots him an exasperated look. “Of course we’re going. We just need to be careful.” She turns back to the rest of the team. “Everybody, strap in. This might be a bumpy ride.”

Everyone takes their seats. “How do we even know where to find Washington?” she asks.

“Gideon knows,” Sara says, taking the pilot’s seat. “Right?”

“Indeed,” Gideon says. “The night before crossing the Delaware, Washington was in Pennsylvania at the home of William Keith. There was a banquet held for Washington and his men."

“We gonna crash the party?” Mick asks.

“In true Legends style.” Sara turns back to look at them. “Congratulations, Mick. You just became a private in the U.S. Army. Amaya, you’re—” Sara stops. “Any suggestions, Gideon?”

"There were several black female landowners in New Jersey during this time period,” Gideon says. “It wasn't until after the Union was formed that federal law disenfranchised them throughout the state."

"Huh," Jax says. "The more you know. What about us?"

“—Jax and Stein, guard the spear pieces but keep an ear on what the rest of us are doing. At the first sign of trouble, you Firestorm up. Ray, your suit’s still not working, so I need you to back up—”

“Without my suit, I’m pretty much useless in a fight,” Ray argues. “Just give me a little time to make a few quick adjustments, and then both my suit and I will immediately go to the party. It’ll be so fast you won’t even notice.”

Sara looks skeptical for a moment, then nods. “Fine,” she says. “But you better fix it fast.” Then she turns back and puts her hands on the controls. “Alright, let’s go save America.”

“Again,” Mick adds.

 

**SCENE: Inside the William Keith home, Pennsylvania 1776**

A Christmas party is in full swing, full of dancing and chatting guests. Sara, in a period dress, is in the middle of the crowd surveying everything. Mick appears next to her, in a Continental Army uniform. “This is a stupid party,” he mutters.

Sara looks amused. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

Mick still looks annoyed. “Bored to death.” He looks around. “Least Pretty isn’t here talking my ear off about all this.”

Sara smiles a little. “Or you talking _his_ ear off. Soon as we see Nate again, I’m telling him just how much of Revolutionary War buff you secretly are.”

Mick glares at her. “Don’t even _think_ about it, Blondie.”

The camera moves over to another area of the party. Amaya, also in period dress, has a drink in her hand and is surveying the room with a practiced eye. Another guest comes up to her with a pleasant expression on his face. “Has your husband abandoned you, ma’am?” he asks, turning as if trying to see what she’s looking at. “He’s merely caught up in conversation, I’m sure, but I can fetch him for you if you’d like.”

Amaya smiles pleasantly. “I’d hate to interrupt him. The connections made at events like this will be vital to the war effort in the long run.”

“Indeed.” The man looks pleasantly surprised. “You have a keen political mind, madame. That’s rare in—” He stops, as if realizing he’s about to say something awkward.

She just smiles at him, but the look in her eyes is a little more pointed. “Oh, it’s more common than you’d think.”

We hear Sara’s voice in her ear. “Good job not punching him.”

The camera moves back to Sara. A tall man comes up to her with a drink in his hand. “Can I interest you in an eggnog, ma’am?” he asks.

“Sure, why not?” Sara says, taking the small glass and finishing it before nodding in approval. “It’s got a kick,” she says, setting it down on a passing tray.

“It's my wife Martha's recipe,” the man says, smiling a little. “A little heavy on the rum, but, in these trying times, I believe extra rum is warranted.”

“Martha....” Sara says, realization lighting her face. “You're George Washington.”

“At your service,” George says, bowing slightly. “Now tell me, from which of our 13 fair colonies do you—“

“Sorry,” Sara says, cutting him off as she takes his arm. “Chitchat later. Right now, we’ve got to get you out of here. Your life is in danger.”

Just as she turns, a shot shatters a pitcher sitting on one of the tables in front of her. She and Washington duck as soldiers in British uniforms pour into the room, all firing their high tech automatic guns. Guests are screaming and running as the shot continue. Mick fires his heat gun, taking out some of the soldiers, and Amaya is totally decimating the soldiers who make it over to her.

Washington moves forward, clearly ready to help fight, when Sara pulls the pistol out of Washington’s own belt and points it at him. “Nope. You’re going to have to leave the heroics to someone else. Right now, we need to get you out of here.” She touches her ear. “Amaya, cover our exit. Then head back to the Waverider.”

Washington looks stubborn. “I’m not about to—“

Mick steps into view, pointing his heat gun at Washington as well. “Like she said, Georgie, we need to get you out of here.”

 

**CUT TO: Outside the William Keith home, Pennsylvania 1776**

Sara and Mick hurry out of the William Keith home with Washington between them. He looks back at the house, clearly upset. "We should not be abandoning them."

Sarah shakes her head. "Protecting you is our first priority. As soon as we get back to—“ She stops, looking shocked at the sight of Rip standing in front of them. “Rip? What are you doing here?” She smiles, stepping forward, then hesitates. “Something’s wrong.”

Mick looks suspicious. “I don’t like this.”

As a group of British soldiers emerge from the trees, Rip smirks at the trio.”Ah, Sara,” he says. “Clever enough to deny me my dramatic reveal.” He lifts a pistol, firing a shot directly into her stomach. “Still, at least I get this.”

Sara crumples as Mick lunges forward to catch her. “What the hell?” he yells, glaring daggers at Rip. “You bastard!”

Rip smirks at him as the three are surrounded and restrained by British soldiers. “Indeed.” He holsters his gun. “And I’m quite enjoying myself. I can see now why you embraced the criminal life so wholeheartedly.”

Washington moves forward, only to be restrained by two of the British soldiers. Mick still has his arms full supporting Sara, but his expression promises murder. “Big step between criminal and evil, asshole.”

Rip looks like he understands something. “Ah, they've corrupted you.” He shakes his head. “Well, I suppose that means you get to agonize along with the rest of them about the little massacre I've set up in one of the quaint little townships nearby. A group of British soldiers in Continental Army uniforms, all armed with the _special_ presents I’ve handed out.” He smirks. “No one will see them coming.”

Sara, clearly in pain, is horrified. “No....”

Rip touches her cheek. “Consider it a Christmas present,” he says, his voice a mockery of gentleness. Then he looks at the British soldiers. "Take them away."

Several soldiers pull Mick away from Sara, and she collapses onto the snow. As the soldiers drag Mick and Washington away, Sara struggles to try to sit up. She can barely move, however, and soon collapses into the snow. “Guys,” she breathes. “I’m in trouble.”

 

**CUT TO: The skies above the Waverider**

Firestorm cuts across the screen, flying urgently through the air. Beneath him, on the ground, we see the Waverider.

 

**CUT TO: Ray’s lab, Waverider**

Ray is at his worktable, putting one of the legs of his A.T.O.M. suit back together. He has tools inside one of the hatches, and though we can’t see it the expression on his face makes it clear that he’s trying to adjust something and it’s not cooperating.

“Come on,” Ray mutters. “The fact that they’re not back yet must mean they still need me, but I can’t do anything until you go where you’re supposed to. I know I still need to replace the dwarf star before you’re _actually_ fixed, but if you’ll just let me jury rig this I’m almost positive I can use you to help save Washington.”

His face and hand movements make it clear he’s decided to force whatever it is. Suddenly his face clears. “Almost fi—“

Before he can finish, a blue light flares brightly enough to cover most of the screen. When it clears, both the leg piece and Ray have disappeared. Then the camera zooms in on the stool where Ray had been sitting to reveal a tiny leg piece and an equally tiny Ray, sprawled out flat on his back and gawking up at the ceiling.

Slowly, he gets to his feet, looking around with a groan. “Okay, not as fixed as I thought.” He rubs a hand along the back of his head. “I don’t suppose you could give me a hand here, Gideon?” When there’s no response, he looks confused. “Gideon?”

Suddenly, all the lights on the ship go out. Ray looks really worried now, and looks around as if trying to figure out what to do next when he hears the sound of footsteps in the hallway. He looks relieved for a second, clearly ready to call out for help, when Rip appears in the doorway.

Rip looks back and forth, as if searching, then shook his head. “Pity. I was hoping one of my old team would be around so I could thank them appropriately for leaving my access active in their system.” He smirks. “I killed Sara much too quickly. I would have enjoyed taking my time with this one.”  

Ray looks horrified as Rip turns and leaves the lab. He hurries toward the door, stopping abruptly just before the edge of the table. He peers over the edge cautiously, his expression stymied. Then he gets a determined look on his face and turns around to focus on the leg rocket. 

CUT TO: Outside the William Keith home, Pennsylvania 1776

Firestorm flies down to where Sara is lying, and Jax and Stein separate. “Sara!” Jax says, rushing to Sara’s side and gathering her up in his arms. He looks up at Stein. “Gray, you gotta do something.”

“As I tell you all repeatedly, I am a _physicist_ , not a _physician_ ,” says Stein, sounding worried as he kneels next to Sara. Stripping off his suit jacket, he presses it against the wound in her stomach. “We need to get her back to the ship, immediately. Gideon can—“

“No.” Sara, says, sounding weak. Both men go still, all their attention on Sara as she continues.“Rip... he must… he must have been brainwashed. Took Mick and Washington. Massacre... planned for township....”

Stein looks grim, and Jax looks horrified. “He’s the one who shot you, isn’t he?” Jax asks shakily. When she nods, he looks pained. “It’s like Chronos all over again. Like Gray said, we need to get you to....”

The words trail off as Sara focuses on him, rallying last bit of determination. “Stop him. Putting you... in charge.” The last word fades off as she sinks back into unconsciousness.

Jax looks overwhelmed. “What do I do?” he asks Stein.

Stein appears equally torn as he looks back down at Sara. “Forgive me, Jefferson, but for once I don’t have a good answer for you.”

The camera pans back toward the house, and we see Amaya running out. She stops when she sees the three of them in the snow, a look of horror crossing her face. Then she runs closer. “What happened?”

“Our former Captain, Rip Hunter.” Stein looks grim. “Apparently, he’s been brainwashed and is now working with our enemies.”

“He shot Sara.” Jax says, his voice a mixture of anger and hurt as he stands with Sara in his arms. “He took Mick and Washington, and Sara said something about him planning a massacre in one of the townships around here.”

Amaya furrows her brow. “Why would he—“ She stops, eyes widening. “It’s a distraction. He’s going after the spear pieces.” She immediately starts hurrying away, back towards the ship.

Jax watches her go, expression firming into determination. “Amaya!” he yells, shifting Sara into Stein’s arms. “Stop!”

She turns around. “We need to get to the ship, _now_. He could be there already!”

Jax shook his head. “Which is just one of a bunch of terrible things that could be happening. Since Sara left me in charge, I say we take care of them first.” He turns to Stein. “Get Sara to Gideon. I know Rip’ll be there, but hopefully Ray can hold him off while you and Gideon save Sara’s life.”

As he leaves, Amaya turns back to Jax.  “Ray will be so focused on protecting Stein and Sara that he might not even think about guarding the spear pieces. We need to be there!”

Jax’s jaw tightens. “We can get the spear pieces back if we have to. But most people can’t come back from the dead, and there’s a lot of them who’ll end up that way if we don’t do anything.”

“The massacre that Hunter claimed was happening,” Amaya says.

“Not just that,” Jax says. “Remember, Rip also has Mick and Washington. There’s no way he plans on keeping them alive.”

CUT TO: A road with only fields on either side, Pennsylvania 1776

Washington and Mick are being led along the road, surrounded by British soldiers but with no sign of Rip.

Though his hands have been shackled in front of him, Mick pulls a package of sandwich crackers out of his pocket and starts chewing on them. “I'm gonna find that skinny little Englishman and strangle him to death,” he mutters, looking murderous even though he’s talking with his mouth full. “Even if he’s been brainwashed, that’s no damn excuse. I should know.”

“Exactly,” Len’s voice says suddenly, and Mick’s jaw tightens as he glances over to see Len suddenly walking beside him. “Which is why it’s time for you to leave, right now, and burn him to ash for pulling this crap.” He sounds furious. “I’m the one who was dumb enough to say yes to that bastard. Now, I’ll help you find him.”

Mick looks thoughtful. “I know you’re a hallucination, but that doesn’t sound like a half-bad idea,” he murmurs, then turns to Washington. “You take the front, I take the rear,” he says quietly. “We can be back before breakfast.”

Washington shakes his head. “If we face them now, they will surely kill us, Private.”

“The name’s Rory. Mick Rory.” Mick shoots him a look that clearly questions his intelligence. “And they’re gonna kill us anyway. We might as well pick the time and place.”

“If the British wanted us dead, they'd have done it already,” Washington argues. “When we reach camp, I will talk to their commanding officer and do what I can to arrange a prisoner exchange.” He hesitates. “Hopefully, he is also a man of honor.”

Len looks disgusted. “Leave him, then,” he says, suddenly appearing in front of Mick, walking backwards. “He’s clearly an idiot.”

Mick’s expression makes it clear he agrees with the sentiment. “You mean, hopefully he’s just as dumb as you are.” He shakes his head. “He ain’t gonna be, Georgie. Not if he’s working with the bad guys.”

Washington squares his shoulders. “It might not have been his choice,” he says. “I must have faith in the inherent dignity of my fellow men.”

“See?” Len says angrily, throwing a hand out in Washington’s direction. “There’s no saving that. Leave him, _now_ , and let’s go murder Rip before this idiot gets you killed!”

Mick hesitates, glancing at Len before looking back at Washington. “How about you have faith in them back on your own turf? All we have to do is—“

“No, Private,” Washington says, quietly but firmly. “You have no need to fear. I am certain we will not be harmed.”

“Now I know why Franklin’s on the hundred dollar bill,” Mick mutters under his breath. “I bet you a hundred yous you’re wrong.”

 “Why aren’t you _leaving_?” Len says, clearly angry. “It better not be because of the timestream, because I can promise you that it doesn’t give a shit about any of us. Let it go to hell. The Flash does, all the damn time. Why should we be any different?”

Mick, a stubborn expression on his face, just keeps walking next to Washington.

 

**CUT TO: Ray’s lab, Waverider**

A still miniaturized Ray is sitting on top of the work table, hurriedly working on a part of the shrunken leg piece.

“Good old pocket tool kit,” he mutters. “If I can just adjust this regulator, I should get enough boost that I don’t need the rest of the rockets.”

After a moment, a look of satisfaction crosses his face and he puts the tool back in his pocket. Then he looks over at the edge of the table, takes a deep breath, and turns it on. The blue flame jets out, much brighter than usual, and we get just a split second of Ray’s “Oh no” expression before he shoots off the table and into the hallway.

The camera follows the rocket out into the corridor, where it immediately crashes low against the opposite wall. We see the blue light go out and something small tumble to the ground, and we see a tiny Ray flat on his back with the leg piece clutched protectively to his chest. He’s staring at the ceiling, looking exhausted.

“Maybe I should turn that down a little,” he says to himself, then a resigned look crosses his face. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m about an inch and a half tall and the only part of my suit I can use is one stupid leg piece. What chance do I have against Crazy Evil Rip?”

Then he notices something by his feet, lifting his head to get a better look at it, and the camera moves to what he’s looking at. It’s a chunk of peanut butter sandwich cracker, relatively huge given Ray’s small size, and it makes Ray’s face light up.

Scrambling to his feet, Ray hurries to the cracker.

 

**CUT TO: The woods near the William Keith home, Pennsylvania 1776**

One of the British soldiers from the attack regains consciousness to find that he’s sitting down, tied to a tree. He looks surprised when he sees Amaya and Jax in front of him, Amaya holding his assault rifle. He focuses on her. “You were at the party,” he says, sounding baffled. “Who are you? I’ve _never_ seen a woman fight like that.”

Jax’s brow furrows as he looks over at Amaya. “Why doesn’t he have a British accent? Did the bad guys recruit people from other time periods?”

Amaya shakes her head. “That is the true British accent from this period. The modern one was invented by the British nobility in the 1800s.” At Jax’s surprised expression, Amaya looks faintly sad. “Rex enjoyed talking to me about unusual things he’d read about.”

Amaya cuts him off with a hard look. “This Colonel Hunter of yours has a massacre planned for one of the nearby townships. Where is it?”

The soldier’s jaw hardens. “It’s not a massacre, it’s an act of war. The rebels are undoubtedly capable of such atrocities. All we’re doing is showing their hand early enough that their allies can—“

Amaya lifts the gun, preparing to hit the soldier with it, when Jax grabs her arm to stop her. He gives the soldier a thoughtful look. “That sounds like a commanding officer talking,” he says after a moment.

The soldier lifts his chin. “He’s a highly educated man.”

“I’m sure he is.” Jax crouches down so he’s eye level with the soldier. “But I’m also sure that he’s not the guy who’s going to wake up tomorrow with blood on his hands. He’s not the one who’s gonna have to point his gun right between the eyes of a little boy who doesn’t give a damn who’s running the country. One that probably looks a hell of a lot like your son, or your nephew, and if you survive all this you’ll have to go home and look at his little face. When you do, all you’ll see is—“

“Stop,” the soldier finally pleads, squeezing his eyes shut.

Jax straightens as the soldier opens his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Birmingham Township. The attack is to start at midnight. We were told to kill everyone we find, no matter who they are.” He pauses. “Or how old.”

Jax and Amaya look at each other in horror.

 

**CUT TO: Back hatch, Waverider**

Stein, carrying Sara, looks worried when he sees the back hatch of the Waverider standing open. Still, he hesitates only a moment before hurrying inside.

 

**CUT TO: Med bay, Waverider**

Stein silently carries Sara inside, laying her on one of the medical beds. “Gideon,” he whispers, though his expression makes it clear he knows it won’t work. He takes a look around the darkened med bay, then looks determined and pulls bandages out of a drawer.

 

**CUT TO: Rip’s office, Waverider**

Rip stands in the middle of his office, looking around. “Now,” he muses. “If I were a bunch of complete idiots, where would I hide pieces of one of the most powerful artifacts in existence?”  His eyes alight on his desk. “Ah.”

He heads over, pulling open a bottom drawer, and pulls out a piece of the spear. He sighs, shaking his head. “Morons.” Then he continues looking through the rest of the drawers.

 

**CUT TO: Ray’s workroom, Waverider**

Ray skids back into his workroom, not hitting with quite as hard a crash. He hurries over to where the helmet to his A.T.O.M. armor is sitting on the ground.

Setting the (now smaller) cracker piece and leg rocket down a safe distance away, he climbs inside the helmet that’s laying on his side.

Once inside, he turns toward the visor. “Locate any humans and other life forms currently on board,” Ray says.

Blueprints of the ship appear, superimposed over the clear screen. There are two red lights in the med bay, and he touches the screen. “Sara,” he says quietly, then shoots an angry, determined look at the third red light currently in Rip’s office. Then he scans the screen to see a smaller light, this time in orange instead of red, in the space between two of the rooms.

Ray looks triumphant. “Bingo.”

 

**CUT TO: British Army camp, Pennsylvania 1776**

The soldiers lead Mick and Washington to their camp, where a man who is clearly higher in rank meets them. "General Washington,” he says. “As I live and breathe."

Washington lifts his chin. "Lieutenant General Cornwallis," he says disapprovingly. "I would've preferred to meet you on the field of battle. I had thought such underhanded tactics to be beneath you."

Cornwallis looks cocky. "I must give credit where credit is due. I have a new colonel who's most impressive." He smirks. "One might say he's ahead of his time."

"Oh please," Len says appearing next to Cornwallis with a disgusted look. "You do not have the panache to pull off a supervillain pun. Leave it to the professionals." He turns to Mick. "Are you really going to sit here and listen to this?"

Mick glares at Len, then shifts his attention to Cornwallis. "If you two are done yapping, I'd like my last meal. The food at that party was crap.”

Cornwallis makes a dismissive gesture. "Take these men to my tent, and have them well fed." He focuses on Washington and Mick. "You'll both be hanged in the morning."

"Sounds exciting." Mick shoots Cornwallis his most manic smile before turning to Washington. "What'd I tell you, Georgie boy?"

"You mean what did _I_ tell you," Len corrects him, glaring at Mick. "If you don't get out of here now and leave Washington to his own idiocy, you're going to die. You really think this asshole is going to watch your back?"

As he's being led away, Washington stops and turns back. "Wait, you mustn't punish him. This man is only guilty of following orders."

"I'm guilty of a lot more than that," Mick counters, giving Len a "Hah, so there" look as he's led away as well. “Just give me something flammable and I’ll show you.”

Len is looking heavenward with a "give me strength" expression on his face, then disappears.

Cornwallis turns to Washington. "He will be returned to his regiment tomorrow with news of your death." He smirks again. "I'm sure it will do wonders for morale."

 

**Cut to: Outskirts of Birmingham Township, Pennsylvania 1776.**

Jax and Amaya are hiding around the corner of a barn, crouched down out of sight but clearly in the middle of a whispered debate. “We should alert the Continental Army about the massacre and focus our efforts on saving Washington,” Amaya argues. “If we can’t protect the spear pieces, we should at least protect the time stream.”

Jax shakes his head. “We can’t be sure anyone else will get here in time. Besides, they probably won’t do anything to Washington until dawn. He’s the leader of the revolution – you don’t want to just kill someone like that in the middle of the night when no one else can see it.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Amaya counters.

Jax still looks determined. “Mick’s with him. He’ll either save Washington himself, or keep him alive until the rest of us can go save them both.”

Amaya shoots him a look that clearly questions his intelligence. “It isn’t wise to put that much faith in one person. Even the best can only do so much.”

“Nothing we do on the Waverider is very ‘wise.’” Jax’s expression lightens a little. “But it works.”

Just as he finishes speaking, a soldier in a Continental Army uniform walks by. Together, Jax and Amaya appear out of their hiding place and ambush him.

 

**CUT TO: Med bay, Waverider**

Sara is laying down on one of the medical beds, still unconscious and pale. The fabric of her dress has been cut away from her stomach, and a large medical dressing applied, but red is already starting to seep through again.

Stein checks her pulse, clearly worried, then looks despairingly at the dark and silent walls. In the distance, we can hear the sounds of Rip moving about the ship. “Ray,” he whispers into his comm. “Ray. If you hear me, and you’re capable of responding, please do so. We need your assistance.”

 

**CUT TO: Corridor, Waverider**

Through an open doorway, we can see Rip rifling through Mick’s quarters and stuffing things into his pockets.

Suddenly, Ray zooms across the screen, barely holding onto both the cracker and his super-powered leg rocket. The camera follows him down the corridor as he crashes into a wall trying to make a turn. He drops the piece of cracker, and as he tries to make a grab for it the rocket sends him zooming off screen.

The camera lingers on the empty corner long enough for us to hear another crashing noise. A beat later, we hear Ray’s voice say “Ow.”

CUT TO: Inside of a British tent, Pennsylvania 1776

George is sitting down at the small table, writing something. Mick is standing at the open door of the tent, watching the soldiers. Len is standing next to him.

"When they change shifts, I'm gonna bust us out of here," Mick tells Washington, not turning around.

"He will _slow you down_ ," Len says, enunciating each word like he’s talking to someone hard of hearing. He glares at Mick. “I keep _telling_ you, Mick, running with the idiots on the Waverider plays hell with your self-preservation instincts. Leave him for the wannabe heroes to take care of, and get the _hell_ out of here.”

Washington doesn’t look up from his letter. “Are you really so anxious to die?” he asks. “I argued for your life, Mr. Rory.”

Mick turns, deliberately ignoring Len’s glare. “That’s why I’m taking you with me,” he tells Washington.

“No, you’re taking him with you because you’ve let yourself drink the Waverider Kool-aid, just like I did,” Len snaps. “And you’re going to _die_ , just like I did.”

“Least then I’d get to yell at you properly,” Mick mutters under his breath.

Len’s expression gets tight, like he’s hurt but trying not to show it. “Mick....”

Before he can say anything more, Washington finishes the letter and folds it up. “While I appreciate the sentiment behind the offer, Mr. Rory, I'd rather die a gentleman than return to Mount Vernon a scoundrel.” He holds the note out to Mick. “I trust that I may depend on you to deliver this to my wife, Martha? Consider it a last request.”

Mick glares at him. “Listen, you fop,” he growls. “You can give it to her yourself. Maybe tell her why you’re so damn okay with dying.”

Len flinches a little. “He shouldn’t be. It’s hell.” He hesitates. “I don’t want that for you, Mick.”

Mick starts a little at that, head turning towards Len, but he’s disappeared.

Washington looks solemn. “I've been a soldier since I was 20 years old. I am comfortable with the idea of death if it benefits the greater cause I fight for – to be treated equally, regardless of hereditary privilege. We must prove to the world that you don't need a title to be a gentleman. By my death, I will prove to the Crown what it means to be an American.”

Mick is even more riled than before. "You don't know the first thing about being an American. We're misfits, outcasts, and we're proud of it. If they attack in formation, we pop them off from the trees. If they challenge you to a duel, you raid their camp at night. And if they're gonna hang you, you fight dirty and you never, ever give up. That's the American way.” He smirks at the surprised expression on Washington’s face. “What'll it be, George?"

 

**CUT TO: Birmingham Township, Pennsylvania 1776**

A soldier, wearing a Continental Army uniform and carrying a modern assault rifle, is coming around the corner of a building.  He sees another soldier in the same uniform, leaning against the wall with their hat pulled down low, and looks annoyed. He moves closer, considerably less stealthy. “Are you _asleep_?” he whispers angrily. “In the middle of a _mission_? I’ll have your—“

Before he can finish however, the soldier lifts their head and we can see that it’s Amaya. She knocks him out with a single blow to the jaw that slams his head against the wall. When he collapses to the ground, she calls on the amulet and breaks the gun with gorilla strength.

On one of the township’s streets, we see another soldier in Continental Army uniform step forward.  Suddenly, he makes a face like he’s just been hit in the head, and collapses to the ground. As he does, he reveals Jax standing there, also in a Continental Army uniform, one of the assault rifles raised as if he’d just used the butt of it to hit the other soldier in the head.

As the other soldier hits the ground, something falls out of his own ear. Jax crouches down to take a closer look at it, realizing it’s a comm device. He picks it up and puts it in his ear.

 

**CUT TO: One of the back rooms, Waverider**

Ray finds the rat, and aims for a nearby crate feet first so he doesn’t crash into it. The rat looks up at him curiously. “Hold on a second,” he calls down to it, fumbling to turn off the rocket while still holding onto the piece of cracker. “I’ve got to turn off this rocket. Then we need to talk.”

The rat, however, smells peanut butter. It’s standing on its hind legs, trying to reach it, and it’s tall enough to sniff around Ray’s feet. “Hey, that’s not very—“ Ray says, trying not to laugh as he fights to hold onto the cracker, turn off the rocket, and now keep his ticklish ankles away from the rat. “Stop,” he says,” giggling. “This is serious.”

 

**CUT TO: Corridor elsewhere in the ship, Waverider**

Rip emerges from one of the rooms, a satisfied expression on his face. “I’ll have to leave them a thank you note,” he murmurs. “Possibly with some sort of explosive device attached.”

He’s heading down the corridor when he stops suddenly, cocking an ear like he’s listening for something. In the silence, there’s a faint sound of movement coming from behind him.

With an evil smile on his face, Rip turns and heads in that direction.

 

**CUT TO: One of the back rooms, Waverider**

Finally, Ray manages to turn off the rocket. He drops down, letting go of the cracker so he can grab onto the rat’s fur. The rat immediately turns to the fallen cracker and starts chowing down, giving Ray the chance to get more firmly settled on its back. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “I think we can do this. It can’t be much harder piloting a rat than it is the suit, right?”

 

**CUT TO: Birmingham Township, Pennsylvania 1776**

Another British soldier with a high-tech gun and a stolen Continental Army uniform is hiding around the corner of a house. He touches a finger to his ear. “Everyone ready?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yes, sir,” comes a voice from his ear that the audience recognizes as Jax.

The soldier doesn’t notice. “Move out.” He strides around the house, kicks in the front door, and lifts his gun. Then he freezes, and the camera moves back to show the barrel of another high-tech rifle pressed against the back of his skull. The camera follows the barrel back to show Jax holding it. “Drop it,” he warns.

The soldier drops the gun, and the barrel moves away from his neck. The soldier whirls around, and Amaya knocks him out with one punch.

 

**CUT TO: Med bay, Waverider**

Rip strolls into the med bay with a cruelly delighted expression on his face. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he asks, making Stein freeze. “A dead woman, and a man who’s about to be dead. Lovely.”

Stein turns around, trying to keep a composed expression as he inches sideways to stand more fully between Rip and Sara. “Do you really want to waste your time with needless bloodshed? I’m sure the rest of your little gang is eager to get their hands on the spear pieces.”

“I’m sure they are,” Rip says with mock agreeableness. “But I feel like they’d be even happier if I brought them the spear pieces _and_ permanently disabled Firestorm.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his gun. “Which limb do we start with first?”

Stein flinches, but doesn’t move. “There’s not a flicker of uncertainty about what you’re doing?” he asks. “No deeply buried part of you that tells you killing your former compatriots is wrong? All Mr. Rory needed was a single fistfight with Mr. Snart, and he apparently cured himself.”

“That’s because he’s just as much of an idiot as you are,” Rip says with a smirk. “But I can assure you, Professor. Every single part of me is looking forward to this.”

 

**CUT TO: Inside the ventilation system, Waverider**

The camera is focusing on what looks like an empty intersection of vents. There’s an offscreen yell, then we see the rat running across the intersection. There’s a scrabbling noise, a “Come on come on come on” from Ray, and we see the rat emerge coming back the other way.

“This is the right way,” Ray says. “Now we just have to—“

 Whatever else he’s been about to say cuts off when the rat starts speeding up. “Slow down,” Ray tries. “We should be going down, trying to find a grate that’s closer to the ground. And then I’ve got to unscrew it.”

The rat doesn’t slow down, and now Ray can hear a conversation going on in the med bay. When he hears Rip, he looks worried. His expression quickly changes to determination. “Here’s hoping the grate’s loose,” he says. Then he takes a deep breath and turns on his leg rocket. He lurches forward as it turns on, grabbing at the rat’s fur.

The rat gives a terrified squeak as they both rocket forward, straight towards the grate.

 

**CUT TO: Birmingham Township, Pennsylvania 1776**

Still in front of the house, Jax takes off his hat and rubs a tired hand over his face. “Well, that’s finally done,” he says, relieved. “Now, we need to collect the guns and figure out how to save—“

He stops when Amaya touches his arm, looking toward the house with a solemn, careful look on her face. He follows her gaze to see a man and woman come out, carrying a candle and dressed in period nightclothes. When they see the soldier sprawled out in front of their home, they look alarmed and focus on Jax.

Jax moves toward them, expression meant to reassure. He explains what happened in a quiet voice as Amaya takes a step back. The camera focuses on her as she picks up the soldier’s gun, as well as the one Jax was using.

As she lifts her head, though, she looks beyond the couple in the doorway to see two little girls standing behind them. They’re also in nightclothes, the youngest one rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Amaya stares at them, looking like she’s just been struck by a painful revelation. Blinking eyes that are suddenly damp, she turns to look at Jax.

 

**CUT TO: Med bay, Waverider**

Ray and the rat burst through the grate, sending it flying forward. Rip turns just in time for it to land on his face, making him drop his gun.

During all this, Ray loses his grip on the leg rocket. He falls off, tumbling down Rip’s coat, and grabs the edge of one of Rip’s pocket to stop his fall. As he’s pulling himself back up, he sees the spear pieces inside the pocket. He jumps inside, trying to push one of the comparatively large and heavy spear pieces out of the pocket, as the camera moves back upward to Rip’s face.

Rip finally manages to pry the rat off his face, flinging it away as he turns back to Sara. What he sees is Stein, still standing between him and Sara and pointing the gun straight at his face. “If you come one step closer,” Stein says, voice calm and serious. “I’ll shoot.”

Rip smirks. “Will you really?” he asks. “Or will that horribly inconvenient moral code you all cling to get in the way? The pain of killing a ‘dear’ former friend and all that.”

“I’m a man of logic, first and foremost,” Stein replies, voice serious. “In this moment, it’s far more logical to kill you than allow you to harm either myself or Sara. I can assure you, my sleep will not be disturbed.”

Rip looks impressed. “Oh, well done, Professor Stein,” he smirks. “Clearly, you missed your calling for the stage.” Then he sighs exaggeratedly. “I’m afraid I can’t stay and see any more of your commanding performance, though. Places to go, things to deliver, people to kill.” With one last smirk at Sara, he throws a mocking salute at Stein and leaves.

Stein stays absolutely still for a moment. When he’s sure everything is quiet, he says “Ray?”

We hear a small voice say “Here,” and Stein turns to look at where it came from. On the ground, he sees a piece of the spear and leans in for a closer look.

The camera follows his gaze down for a closeup, and we see Ray lying exhausted on the ground next to the spear piece. “I got one back,” he says, looking triumphant.

“That’s not important now,” Stein says, looking urgent. “You need to re-set the ship’s power so that Gideon can come back online and save Sara’s life.” The camera cuts to Ray, scrambling to his feet, as Stein continues talking as a voiceover. “The switch is on the southwest panel in the engine room.”

Ray starts hurrying out of the room, then stops and looks around. High up on the wall, we see the blue light of the leg rocket where it’s wedged itself in a corner. He looks up at Stein, pointing over at it. “Any chance you could grab that for me?”

 

**Cut to: British camp, Pennsylvania, 1776**

It’s morning, and Washington is about to be hanged. Mick is standing watching, under guard by a British soldier, but neither Mick nor Washington look worried.

“Any last words?” Cornwallis asks.

“In fact, I've learned a new word from my private,” Washington says.

The camera cuts back to Mick, who punches out the soldier guarding him and steals their rifle. He shoots a small collection of gunpowder barrels as we hear Washington say “Kaboom” offscreen. The barrels explode, sending several British soldiers flying.

A fight breaks out. Mick is charging whole groups of soldiers, throwing himself at them bodily, while Washington fights his way down to Mick’s side. Washington head butts Cornwallis, and he and Mick move back to back and continue fighting. Mick is hitting the other soldiers with pretty much anything they’re dumb enough to be holding when they come after him, and Washington is doing almost as well.

Washington, however, doubles over with a hit to the stomach, and after he’s taken out his current soldier Mick turns around to pull him upright. “Come on, Georgie boy,” he says, clearly enjoying himself.

Suddenly, Len’s standing there. “Mick, you idiot! Behind you!”

Mick whips around, grabs the barrel of the rifle behind held on him, and yanks it out of his hand. Then he turns around, holding it like a baseball bat. “Let me teach you about a real American sport,” he says, advancing on the soldier as he swings the gun up.

The soldier, wisely, turns and runs, but when he gets offscreen we hear a pained “oof” sound. The camera moves and we see the soldier on the ground in front of Amaya, who has clearly just delivered a good right hook.

Jax comes up behind her. “Sorry we’re late,” he says. “Had a massacre to stop.”

“No problem,” Mick said easily, shooting a grin at Washington. “Georgie and I were having fun.”

“Indeed we were,” Washington agrees.

“See? You just had to loosen up a little.” Mick claps him on the shoulder as he walks by. “Lemme go get my gun back, then we can get out of this dump.”

As Mick heads off toward one of the tents, Washington turns back to Jax and Amaya. He hesitates, then holds out his hand towards them. “General George Washington. I am honored to meet any friends of Mr. Rory.”

They both shake his hand. Amaya looks respectful, and Jax is a bit wide-eyed. “Pretty sure we have you beat in the ‘honored’ department,” says Jax.

Amaya nods. “Indeed.”

 

**CUT TO: Corridor, Waverider**

Ray is back to trying to fly the leg piece back through the ship, jumping off and climbing through an open vent when he hits the right location.

 

**CUT TO: Med bay, Waverider**

Stein is doing CPR on Sara, but there’s no sign of improvement.

 

**CUT TO: Engine room, Waverider**

We see Ray on the top of what appears to be a small control panel. He hauls up a clear cover off of a switch, then throws his entire body weight into pushing it the other way. Suddenly, the lights turn on, and we hear the ship waking up.

 

**CUT TO: Med bay, Waverider.**

The lights come on in the med bay. “Gideon?” Stein asks, looking hopeful.

“Hello, Professor,” Gideon says. “How can I be of assistance?”

Stein breathes an immense sigh of relief. “Ms. Lance is, uh, how shall I put this...”

“Dead?” Gideon finishes.

Stein winces. “Delicate, as always.”

“Luckily, her brain cells are still functioning.” Gideon says, beginning the scans. “It may take time, but barring any unforeseen complications I should be able to save her.”

“Take all the time you need,” Stein says, voice full of gratitude and relief.

SCENE: William Keith home, Pennsylvania 1776

Washington and Mick are sitting on chairs in front of a fire. Washington is holding a small glass of sherry, while Mick is holding the bottle. They toast.

“To fighting like an American,” Washington says.

“I always do,” Mick replies, then they both drink.

As Washington sets his glass down on the table, Mick takes a closer look at the bottle. “Ah, not bad,” he says, then leans forward. “Listen, Georgie. I got some thoughts on the criminal justice system....”

He’s cut off by the sound of Amaya and Jax entering the room, carrying some of the assault rifles. “This is last of them,” Amaya says. “You should be back to a fair fight now.”

“Your troops are waiting for you outside, Mr. Pr— General,” Jax adds.”

Washington stands up. “I don’t understand much of what I’ve seen, but I’ve learned a great deal.” He turns to Mick as he stands up. “And you, sir, are no small part of that.”

“You’d have figured it out,” Mick says, holding up a hand. “Well, Georgie, it’s been a pleasure.”

They shake hands briefly, then Mick hesitates. Washington holds his arms out, and they end up hugging. Mick pulls away, ready to go, then stops and pulls Washington’s letter out of his back pocket. “But, uh, you can deliver this love letter yourself.”

“This is no love letter,” Washington explains. “It's a battle strategy. I wanted to ensure my men would receive it in the event of my death.” He smirks a little. “The Hessians will be receiving a Christmas surprise this evening.”

Mick looks pleased. “Ah, you sneaky bastard,” he says. “You’re not such a gentleman after all.”

“And you, Mr. Rory, are more than you seem.” Washington claps a hand on his shoulder. “Your rebel spirit, your steadfastness, your crass yet effective use of language... You represent the best of what our new nation can be.”

Throughout the speech, Mick watches Washington like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Once it’s done, he turns to go, then hesitates and turns around again. “You know, you should think about making sure it’s your face that ends up on the $100 bill,” he says. “You deserve it.”

The camera follows Mick as he follows Jax and Amaya outside. When he sees Len on the lawn waiting for him, looking grim, he hesitates. “I know you’re just my messed-up brain,” Mick says finally, starting to walk again. “But thanks for the save back there.”

“Always,” Len says, sounding solemn. “But I shouldn’t have had to do it. If you’d been watching your own back, or if someone else had been watching it, you wouldn’t have needed anyone to warn you.”

Mick’s shoulders tense. “They had a massacre to stop.”

Len moves around to stand in front of him, stopping Mick in his tracks. “You were always my first priority, Mick,” he says. “Even when I made decisions you didn’t like, even when I screwed up, watching yours and Lisa’s backs was always first on my mind. Even the haul was second.”

Mick looks pained, then his jaw tightens. “Why should I listen to you? You’re not even real.”

“Think about it,” Len challenges him, expression serious. “See if you can prove me wrong.”

Then he disappears.

 

**SCENE: Rip’s office, Waverider**

Sara shuts the bottom drawer of the desk, straightening with a sigh. “I _knew_ we should have found better hiding places,” she says, resigned, then turns back Gideon’s screen. “At least the Revolution’s back on track, right Gideon?”

“Yes, history has been restored,” Gideon says. “Though there is now a statue in the nation's capital that bears a striking resemblance to Mr. Rory.”

Sara chuckles. “Go, Mick!” She looks over at Jax as he came in, gesturing to the screen. “Mick’s now an official Founding Father.”

Jax grins. “Doesn’t surprise me. He and Washington looked pretty tight.” Then his expression sobers. “How are you doing?” he asks carefully.

“Pretty good, considering,” Sara says, smiling wryly. Then her expression gentles. “How are you doing?”

Jax shrugs. “Glad to not be in charge.” He hesitates. “I’m sorry I lost the pieces. I should have figured out a way to—“

“Hey,” Sara says cutting him off. “You did the right thing. There was no way we could have let all those people die.” Then she gives him a cocky smile. “Besides, we didn’t do too bad. I’m alive, Washington’s alive, a bunch of perfectly nice civilians are alive, and we managed to get a piece back from Rip.” She smiles a little. “All in all, a pretty good end to a mostly terrible birthday.”

Jax’s eyes widen. “Your birthday?”

Sara’s expression is wry. “Christmas baby.”

Jax’s expression transforms, like he’s getting the greatest idea ever, and Sara cuts him off with an “oh no” face. “No.” She holds up a warning finger. “There will be no birthday parties, at least not for me. That would be _way_ too weird.”

Jax looks stubborn. “But we have to do _something_.”

 

**CUT TO: Middle of the woods, Pennsylvania, 1776**

Rip is cutting through the trees with purpose, looking satisfied with himself. “Not too bad for a night’s work,” he says smugly to himself, reaching into his pocket. “Of course, next time I’ll have to—“

He stops, hand still in his pocket. His expression goes blank, then turns angry. He pulls out the two spear pieces, staring down at them while his expression grows more and more furious.

 

**CUT TO: Kitchen/eating area, Waverider**

Everyone is bustling around the kitchen, laughing and chatting as they get everything ready for a party.

Mick is sitting at the table, holding the rat and petting him. He has a faraway look on his face, like his mind is somewhere else.

Ray, still small, is sitting on Mick’s shoulder. “So I guess it wasn’t so bad that you leave crumbs everywhere,” he says cheerfully. “I think you should keep him, though – the hero of the Revolutionary War deserves a heroic rat as a pet. He really likes those peanut butter sandwich crackers you eat, and I’m sure there’s….” His voice trails off as he takes a closer look at Mick’s face. “You okay?”

Mick blinks, obviously pulling himself out of his thoughts into the present moment. “Yeah. Just thinking about things.” Ray opens his mouth, expression still curious, when Mick looks over at him. “Why aren’t you more worried that you’re still a shrimp? Shouldn’t it have worn off by now?”

Ray shrugs. “It happened once or twice while I was first building the suit. It always wears off eventually.” Then his expression sobers. “I’m more worried about the suit. The one idea I had for a quick fix didn’t work, and I’m afraid it’s going to take me a long time to put it back together.”

“We’re on a time ship. Time’s the one thing we got.” Mick turns back to the rat. “Should probably find something else to do out on jobs until you can get it fixed, though.”

Ray looks worried, then visibly tries to cheer himself up. “Maybe I can be the Incredible Shrinking Man, fighting evil with a—“

He cuts himself off as there’s a flash of blue light, and we can see the shrinking effect start to wear off. The camera starts cutting away to the rest of the Legends as we hear the sound of the chair crashing backwards and Mick growling “Get off me” off screen.

The camera moves to Amaya, who approaches Jax as he takes plates out of a cupboard and sets them down on the counter. “I just wanted to say thank you,” she says quietly. “I was so blindly focused I wasn’t thinking clearly. If you’d listened to me, those people—“

“It’s okay,” Jax says quietly, laying a hand on her arm. “That’s what being a team’s all about, right? Helping each other out when we need it?”

She nods, expression clearing. “Yes,” she says, smiling a little. “And you were right. I’ll try harder not to forget to be alive.”

Jax grins. “Parties tend to help with that.”

 

**CUT TO: Eating area, Waverider**

There are streamers and balloons on the walls. Everyone’s sitting around a table, piled high with food, still laughing and talking.

Sara stands up, hitting a fork against a glass. When everyone turns to her, she starts talking. “Now, we took a hit, but we still have plenty to celebrate. We saved a bunch of people, including yours truly, we saved America, and Mick’s probably now a question on some poor high schooler’s history test somewhere.” She grins at Mick, who grins back. “And before all this is over, we’re gonna save Rip, get back the rest of the spear, and kick the bad guys’ asses all the way back to the beginning of time. Because as powerful as they may be, they don't have this. Family. And we all know nobody fights like family.” As everyone laughs, she raises a glass. “Cheers. To family.”

The camera pulls back to show the entire group as they clink glasses together and say, in unison, “To family.”

As the camera pans away, we hear Ray say, “You know, we really need to give the bad guys a cool name. Something like—”

Sara cuts him off. “Don’t even think about it.”

 

End Credits.


	2. Fan Art for Episode 9: Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See it on Tumblr [here.](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/post/165273055207/art-for-the-ninth-lotrewrite-written-by)
> 
> Kickingshoes' tarot card for Episode 9 - they've created a full set of Major Arcana based on the episodes! See more of their art [here](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/tagged/our-art)!


End file.
